Pulling Strings
by The Oven Glove
Summary: Turns out Seth is far darker in personality than even his former brothers could estimate. Now Roman's out of town, and Dean is more vulnerable than ever, thanks to a folding chair. Now what will The Architect build with the raw material he's been gifted?
1. Chapter 1

The first chair shot catches Dean in the left shoulder, more out of luck than skill, and Dean stumbles backward and goes down hard. Seth didn't wait for him to stand before swinging a second and third time, both hits landing on Dean's head with a noise that made the crowd wince in sympathy. The blond's eye lids fluttered for several seconds as he tried to regain his bearings. The so called Lunatic looked unusually out of it, and Seth concidered wether or not it would take one more hit to keep Dean down and outside the ring for the full count out.

Dean had managed to lever himself to his elbows, and was slowly rolling himself over, looking like he was barely managing not puking all over the mat. Seth smirked to himself and dropped the chair. For all intents an purposes, the Street Dog had been put down for the night. He rolled back into the ring and stood, leaning casually against the ropes and watching Dean try to crawl up the barrier as the crowd counted with the refferee. When they finally reached ten Seth eagerly snatched his title belt away from the ref, hopping down the stairs and walking casually over to his former brother. Instead of throwing a punch at the back of his head, or giving him a pedigree right there at ringside, he threw an arm around the dazed mans shoulders in a mockery of their former friendship and squeezed him tight. "You know the Big Cat's gonna be pissed you lost, right?" He growled, trying his best to shove a wedge between Dean and his lover, and simultaniously feeding into the social anxiety and insecurity he knew the older man suffered from. "Just like every time you screw up like this. And you do screw up a lot, _brother_. Here, I tell you what," He said, shaking Dean slightly and giving him a shit eating grin, "Whenever you need somewhere safe to hide from the ass-kicking you just _proved_ to Roman you deserve, you come up to my room. I promise I'll be gentle." He laughed loudly in Deans face, and slapped his cheek a few times, just to be a dick.

The two-toned man was so caught up in his win, and after-match trash talk, it barely registered that Dean hadn't so much as glared at him the whole time he was talking. The man had barely looked clear headed enough to understand what was being said _. 'It didn't matter anyway.'_ He thought to himself as he walked back up the ramp, _'He's not my problem now. And with the Big Cat home with his family for the week, the little bastard is aaaaaall alone. I almost pity him.'_ The young man chuckled at his former friends misfortune, and headed for his dressing room, already considering if there was a way for him to use Romans absence to his advantage against Dean.

For once though, it seemed like the universe had already done part of his work for him.

It was several hours later, when Seth was freshly showered and relaxing on the bed in a simple pair of black sweat pants, that he heard a soft knock at the door. Without much concern for who it might be, Seth pushed up from his reclined position and went to answer. The Lunatic Fringe himself was standing there with both hands balled up in the pockets of his jeans, looking uncomfortable, and shuffling his booted feet.

The younger man frowned in confusion and stuck his head out into the hall, checking to make sure no one was around to see them together. All clear. Good. He turned his attention back to Dean to ask just what the Hell he thought he was doing, only for the man to push past him and slip into the room without permission. Seth opened his mouth to throw the mother of all Bitch Fits and just toss the Lunatic back out on his ass for all his rudeness, but stopped cold when he saw the lost and scared expression on his ex-friends face. The high flyer gently shut the door with his foot, and crossed his arms as he walked over to lean against the wall across from the bed. "Just make yourself at home, why don't 'cha?" He said with a sneer.

It was an expression he'd only ever seen once before on the blond, on the night he broke the Shield for good. There had been always been Angry!Dean, and there had been some Supprised!Dean too, but the words 'Dean' and 'scared' didn't belong in the same dictionary, let alone the same sentence. The ninjas curiosity won out over his anger for the moment, and he tilted his head as he asked cautiously, "What? What happened?"

If the Lunatic Fringe had finally truly snapped, Seth Rollins was _not_ going to jail as the unwitting accomplice that helped find a place to dump the body of the hobo he'd killed.

Dean ran a hand over his hair several times while licking his lips and trying to decide what to say. He walked backwards a few steps until his knees bumped the edge of the bed and he flopped down onto it, finally deciding on a rasping whisper of "You... said it was safe." He licked his lips, and finally looked Seth in the eye for the first time since he came to the door.

Seths eye went wide, then narrowed them just as quickly. He'd told Dean to come to him if he needed to escape to somewhere safe to hide. But there had been no immediate life-or-death danger in the hall that could have provoked this situation, and Dean himself didn't look like he was about croak right there in Seths bed, so what the Hell could have motivated the proudly self-sefficient man to seek shelter with his worst enemy? He didn't look or sound drunk, and he had been so proud of himself back in the indies when he finally kicked his drug habit, Seth knew that it would never be an issue again. So what was going on here?

He asked that very question out loud, but wasn't prepared for the hurt look he recieved in answer. Dean frowned, and rubbed his right hand over his collar bone in what Seth recognized a nervous gesture, "I need to... I need some answers...I guess."

When there was no clarification forthcoming, Seth gestured for him to continue, but there was still hesitation in the way he spoke, "I can't...what happened? Earlier tonight, I mean. I remember going to the arena, and I remember I had a match but... it's still kinda blurry. The part that really scares me is...I've lost time somewhere. I can-"

"Woah. Wait." Seth held up a hand, "If you're having memory failure, you need to go to the trainers, or probably a hospital. And your problems are most likely because of the hits you took to the head during the match." He said, and he was proud of himself that he didn't let out the laughter that was welling up inside him at this revelation.

This was really too good an opportunity to pass up. Seth put on his best concerned face and took several steps forward, until he was just outside Dean's reach. "You're okay now though, right?" he said already considering the situation from all angles. There had to be a way to work this to his advantage. "You said you were missing time? How much? What's confusing you?"

Dean abruptly slammed his right fist into his left palm and growled to himself, his anger coming out in a short burst. "Everything is confusing me, bro. I remember my name, and what city we're in, and who's president, and all that useless bullshit the paramedics ask when you get a head injury. It's the personal stuff that's gone. Half the stuff about you and Rome is just missing. It's...There's...Why aren't we rooming together? I was so confused when I got back to my room and it was only a single. I don't know where Rome is, and the phone says his number's disconected. Did I do something to piss you guys off? ... And I'm... almost afraid to ask... but I need to know... who hit me? I don't think I've pissed off anyone but the Athority lately. Was it one of them?" Dean winced as he reached up and prodded gently at the small but tender goose-egg just under the hairline on his right temple.

And that was it. If Seth had been a cartoon character, a lightbulb would have appeared over his head, because that was it. That was his in. And if he played it the right way, he might be able to kill two birds with one stone. Seth took a deep breath and decided that if this worked, he was going into acting.

The young man made a pained expression and gently rested his right hand on Deans shoulder as he kneeled in front of his former friend. He sighed and gave a theatrical pause, like he was looking for a way to say something difficult. "Dean, Roman isn't answering his phone because... he was the one that hurt you. He probably changed the number on us by now. I guess you don't remember all the fights you two have been having lately?" That was a blatant lie, as far as he knew Dean and Roman were disgustingly happy together. "They've been pretty bad. I never thought he would take it as far as he did. Do you remember-" he cut himself off, sighed and ducked his head, placing his free hand on Deans other shoulder. He really deserved an Acadamy Award for this performance. "Do you remember what ha-happend last week?" The Architecht was particularly proud of the catch in his voice, and he looked back up at Dean in time to see him shake his head in the negative.

Tanned thumbs traced what he hoped were comforting circles as he slid his hands up to cup either side of the blonds neck, he wanted perfect eye contact for what he was going to say next. "We were drinking in the hotel room after Raw, just the three of us. I left to get ice, and when I got back... I-...He was all over you, Dean." The young man said quietly, "He was all over you, and his hand was over your mouth but I could still hear you screaming. I got him off you before he could get past your clothes, but..." Seth voice caught again, and he even managed to get a tear to roll down his cheek. This was Oscar worthy, at the least. "Dean, I'm so sorry I let it happen." He reached up and ran a hand over wavy blond hair, then sniffed like he was holding back some strong emotion, "I should have come back sooner. Shouldn't have left him alone with you in the first place. I'm sorry, baby."

For a long moment the only expression on the face of Dean Ambrose was one of disbelief and confusion. Seth was begining to wonder if he had pushed things too far. Had he contradicted something that Dean still remembered? Then, it was like a switch had been flipped, and whatever had been holding the Lunatic together crumbled. He abruptly slumped forward, wrapping his arms around Seths waist, and pressing his face into the side of his neck. Seth returned the embrace with gusto, stroking up and down the wide back with one hand, and threading his other through wavy hair. He allowed himself an indulgent smile as he heard a muffled sob, but quickly schooled his expression into something more grim as Dean began to slowly pull back.

There were tears in his blue eyes, but they didn't fall. "I can't believe this- I just..." He stuttered and paused, not sure how to proceed. Eventually he huffed out a mirthless laugh and closed his eyes, "I cared about him, he was my brother! I didn't think anything like this would ever... _Could_ ever... Jesus-Fuck-Christ, I knew I was fucking crazy, I didn't think I was just plain _stupid_." He raised his head and before he could lift a hand Seth was already reaching up to wipe his tears away with the pads of his thumbs

"You're not stupid, obviously. I never would have bothered asking you out if I thought there was a chance of you screwing things up." The two toned man decided to add a little frosting to his cake-of-lies, and at the same time dig at Deans insecurities, "None of the things Roman said about you are true. I don't want you believing a single word that comes out of that slimeball's mouth, okay? I love you the way no one else ever will, understand?" He said finally allowing a small smile to emerge, in the hopes of encouraging one in the Street Dog. All he saw was confusion.

Deans eybrows scrunched together as he tried to process what Seth had said so casually, "You asked me out?" He asked in quiet disbelief, then, only slightly louder, "You love me?"

The two-toned man nodded and smiled sweetly, trying to think about how long it had been since the rumors started about Roman and Dean finally getting together. "Yeah." he said, standing as his knees began to ache against the hard floor. The tanned young man stepped between Deans thighs and loosly wrapped his arms around the shoulders of (hook, line, and sinker) his new boyfriend. "Been together about... eight months now. Give or take." He grabbed the older man by the chin with his thumb and forfinger, and tilted his head up so he could look Dean in the eyes, "Oh, my sweet baby boy." He whispered, trying to sound sad. "He took it all away from you, didn't he? You... don't remember any of it. Our first date at that little Chinese take-out place? That night on the beach, in Tampa? What about almost getting caught together by that security guard in the changing rooms at the mall? I know you can't forget that." There wasn't a single spark of recogniton in the eyes of the Lunatic Fringe, and there shoudn't have been, because none of it had ever happened. But Dean didn't know that. The Cincinati native lowered his head again, this time resting it on Seths chest, shame and dissapointment flowing through him at not remembering all those apparently important dates.

"I-I'm sorry." Deans voice was muffled by the fact that Dean was looking down, but Seth heard him clear enough. If it wouldn't have ruined the entire set-up, Seth would have laughed out loud. Clearly this was eating the older man up inside, and all Seth could do was wonder how long this sweet, sweet, revenge could be dragged out.


	2. Puppet Master

Seth pulled his fingers through shaggy curls a few more times, trying to act comforting, but honestly becoming a bit bored with the moment. He set the thoughts at the back of his brain spinning on new ways to torment Dean, but couldn't come up with a damn thing until the universe, once again, provided for him.

"If we're dating..." Dean sniffed and looked up at Seth for confirmation. When he recieved a subtle smile and nod in return, he was given the confidence to continue, "If we're dating, then why was I sleeping in another room? Did something happen between us? I did somthing stupid again, didn't I?" He didn't wait for the younger man to answer before his voice wavered from his usual rasp into a sad whisper, and as Seth thought over his response and how to frame this whole imaginary 'fight' and how it was Dean's fault, he understood something that should have been obvious at first glance. The self depreciating wording of Dean's question, his curled-in posture, and tone of voice all combined in a display that made Seth realize that the poor man's situation had triggered an all too common struggle with his intese depression. He was supposed to be on some kind of meds for it, but Dean had the bad habit of going off his medication everytime he started to feel 'better', even back in his Shield days with both Seth and Roman nagging him to take them. Apparently this was one of the times he'd stopped medicating himself.

Seth sighed at the fortune that was shining on him that particular night, but abrubtly released his Lunatic 'Lover' and spun to face the opposite direction. He breifly scrubbed at the lower half of his face before letting his arm drop back to his side, making the entire gesture seem equal parts angry and exasperated. The two toned man rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand, and (assuring that Dean could clearly see it) a made a tight fist with his left. "Yeah." He said making the older man want to cry all over again with one word, and being deliberately short so that Dean would be forced to ask for details. "Yeah, we faught. I guess. I dunno."

"What the Hell does that mean? How the fuck do you _guess_ we had a fight? That's the kind of shit you remem-", the Lunatic stopped suddenly and sucked in a slow breath as he rubbed his right hand over his collarbone again.

Seth figured the embarassed silence that followed meant that Dean had finished ranting at him, and so, began to spin the lie of the fight, "Fight implies that it was a two way street. In this case it was mostly just you screaming at me." The younger of the two walked back to the bed and sat a respectful distance from his new lover. Still he refused to make eye-contact out of supposed anger. "We haven't been romantic, or even really touched eachother much since... what happened with... Well, anyway, last night I was trying to make a night of it, you know, make it special? Try to ease back into things? But it just seemed like you were _trying_ to start a fight. First you were mad about the watch I got you; said I was trying to act like your 'Sugar Daddy' and you didn't want to be anyones whore. I thought you were just nervous, so I poured you a glass of that Crystal Skull vodka you love, and apparently that was wrong too. You said I was just trying to get you drunk so I could do what Roman had failed to." His was voice low, and rough with the pretense of withheld anger. Seth paused a moment to let it all sink in; let the poor bastard marinate in the (completly false) idea that he had acused of attempted rape the man who, not only claimed to love him despite his many obvious flaws, but had apparently saved him from an ' _actual'_ rape attempt a week prior.

He braced his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands, like he was angry and didn't know how to express it. "I didn't...I couldn't stay in the same room as you, knowing that's how you thought of me. That you expected me to act like that disgusting jackass. And more importantly, I didn't think you would honestly be able to sleep next to someone you thought would do that to you, so I got my stuff together and checked out while you had locked yourself in the bathroom. I didn't know what to-" He sighed again and tried to sound like he was on the edge of crying once more, "I didn't want to leave you _alone_." He emphasized the final word, having figured out long ago, without even Dean knowing, that it was a trigger word for all the negative emotions and compartmentalized self-loathing that the bedraggeled man had carried since childhood. He felt a comforting hand on the back of his shoulder, and allowed himself another quick smile, hidden behind the curtain of his loose hair, that Dean was ignorant of. "Oh God, I didn't want to _leave_ you at all...But you told me to get out, and I wanted you to be alright again, so I left without you. Got my own rental, got here, and got my own room." He said with a finality that suggested he hated what had happed but was clueless about how to make it better.

The young man waved a dismissive hand before dropping them both to hang limply between his knees, "You obviously got here by yourself, and got your own room, so I just figured you would be better without me. Less upset. Less stressed maybe." Another power play to elicit sympathy from the Ohioan and make him feel worse about the story he was being fed.

Dean had tried to pull a similar stunt in the first few weeks of the Shield, becoming more and more distant each day before taking off while he thought Roman and Seth had been sleeping in on their first real morning off after their debut. His sob story back then had been that he was crazy, yes, but sane enough to know that he didn't want to be a 'burden' on Roman and Seth. He then had promised that they wouldn't even have to speak to eachother oustide of work, and vowed never to bother them again. The Lunatic Fringe hadn't made it two steps away before Roman grabbed him by the forearm and steered him to the hotel bar, where they proceeded to get completely hammered while Roman explained that team-mate was really just an old Samoan word for brother. It had become an inside joke with them not long after, but it had really meant something to Dean in those days. Brotherhood. People he could depend on. It was probably the first time in his entire life that Dean had had anyone who would support him unfailingly, and without asking for anything in return.

Thinking about it now just kind of made Seth feel sad and a bit sick to his stomach, and so he endevored not to entertain the memories any further.

The tanned young man finally turned his head to face his new boyfriend and continue their conversation, "We all know you have your issues, but I thougth that if I gave you a little space, you would come back to me when you were ready." He gave his best hopeful smile, "You are- I mean..." Seth exhaled, "You are ready, right? To start over again?" He lifted his left hand to stroke gently over Dean's thigh, before quickly stealing it back, as if afraid of the older mans reaction. "I don't want to upset you, or hurt you again. But I don't want you to have to be _alone_ for the rest of your life." An over exaggeration, for sure, but it helped sell the bit, and as a bonus, hit Dean's trigger word again. "I'm sorry if I hurt you. But I love you, Dean Ambrose. And I'm not sure how much longer I'll honestly be alright without you. I _need_ you." He emphasized, staring into his boyfriends eyes and trying to sound romantic without being cheesy.

Apparently it was working better than he thought, because Dean gave a short sniffle before giving in to a rather unseemly crying jag. He tried to speak his mind several times but it was a good minute before he could calm himself enough to make sense when he spoke. "I- I don't want to start back at the begining. I ca- I can't." He had to stop and compose himself again as he used the sleeves of his leather jacket to try and wipe away the tear tracks running down his stubble covered cheeks, "We're together, right? So let's be together. Wherever we were then, wherever we are now... it's all the same at this point." His voice became much more stable as he conveyed what was on his mind, "And I think it might even help my memory to just jump right back into things. It might trigger something good." Dean sounded more hopeful and optimistic with each word he spoke. As the blond scooted closer to his boyfriend, he leaned in, bringing his left hand up to cup Seth's jaw. His eyes darted from to his lovers mouth, up to his eyes, and back down again, as if he was asking permission without actually asking. His faulty memory making him question what actions would be appropriate, and weather or not his advances would make things better or worse.

It was all Seth could do not to smile at Dean's eagerness. That willingness, that _need_ to please his friends was a trait that Seth was going to love exploiting.


End file.
